Any excuse to eat carbs.

I will create ANY and EVERY excuse known to man to eat me some comfort carbs. Christ sakes, it's like I'm gearing to go hideout in the mountains. On other news, I didn't clean my room, or my bathroom, didn't go to the gym (going on month three now), but I DID however order Pad Thai, vegetarian of course cause you know, I gotta at least pretend I care what my chunky belly looks like, and sit at the head of my bed, which doubles as my work space since my laptop is on my nightstand, and read a crappy review that said I pace and try not to cry and that's pretty much it, read up on facebook and quickly go "on-line" to see if there is anyone I really feel like chatting with, read old e-mails, go on Twitter and...who am I kidding, I don't do anything on that fucking site, BIGGEST time waster ev-errrr, and then watch two episodes of The Starter Wife which I queued up on Netflix by some drunken mistake....its pretty good, just Netflixed the next one. So later on I will stare around my room, maybe measure my waist to determine what percentage I am allowed to REALLY feel like shit about my lazy ass, move one pile of shit to another part of the room, wash face, floss (ONLY thing I am proud to say I do everyday), brush, obsess over my weak double chin, my backfat, and my ever-sagging utters, throw on my Bon Jovi night shirt, and call. it. a. night.
Oh, and I have a crush on an actor, a yet againnnn. I fucking rule.